


Rejoice

by KaavyaWriting



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Battle of Five Armies, Bilbo Angst, BotFA Politics, Canon Compliant, Dragon Sickness, Gold Sickness, M/M, Missing Scene, Spoilers for Battle of Five Armies, Thorin Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-04
Updated: 2015-05-04
Packaged: 2018-03-28 23:07:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,281
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3873244
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KaavyaWriting/pseuds/KaavyaWriting
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A short missing scene from the Battle of the Five Armies, during Thorin's gold sickness.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rejoice

**Author's Note:**

> Unbeta'ed, because it's just a little fic that bit me while seeing BotFA again. There may be a handful of other short, quickie BotFA-related fics coming along. :)
> 
> I just wanted to wave to everyone and let all my readers know I'm alive and still writing, nothing is abandoned, and 'i'm killing time, and time's killing you' is still being written! It will hopefully be updated soon, guys. I'm sorry for the atrociously long wait - there's a laundry list of reasons why, but ultimately it just happens between writing and the rest of life sometimes, unfortunately.

"This mountain was hard-won. I will not see it taken again," Thorin said, that note of smug satisfaction in his voice that Bilbo had come to recognize as the frightful dragon madness sinking its teeth harder into Thorin's mind.

Bilbo winced as Kíli grunted and threw down the barrel he'd been dragging to the gate. Everyone was on edge, that was plain as day. Bilbo only wished he was close enough to kick Kíli and keep him from spurring Thorin's strange new fury.

"The people of Lake-town have nothing!" Kíli cried, staring up at Thorin in earnest dismay, as if he wasn't aware what madness held sway over Thorin. Perhaps he didn't. The longer they lingered in the mountain, in the treasury, the more some Dwarves seemed to lose themselves. Kíli was not an exception. "They came to us in need. They have lost _everything_."

Thorin whirled around to glare down from the broken gate's heights. "Do not tell me what _they_ have lost. I know well enough their hardship." He paused, turning back to gaze lingeringly upon Dale. The silence was great enough that Bilbo hoped Kíli's outburst had reached Thorin, the buried Thorin that was Bilbo's, their leader who'd been missing since they'd come to this cursed mountain. Then Thorin's voice rang out again, with a horrifying note of gleeful satisfaction that sent chills up Bilbo's back.

"Those who have lived through dragon fire should rejoice! They have much to be grateful for. ...more stone! We must fortify the gate."

~*~

"It was a severe judgment, Thorin," Bilbo said quietly, as the Dwarves filtered into their self-made quarters outside the treasury, their work at the gate finally finished.

Thorin followed Bilbo down the corridor into the shadows, as he seemed prone to doing these dark days, as if he couldn't quite help seeking Bilbo out.

Bilbo didn't understand it, but a small part of him hoped he provided some relief to Thorin's beleaguered mind; he was not blind to the … well, the softer looks Thorin gave him in their moments alone, as if _his_ Thorin were breaking through.

That didn't mean Bilbo was blind to the way he was more and more becoming Thorin's confidant as the madness drove him to doubt his own kin. A crutch, Bilbo felt like, propping up Thorin's paranoia simply by being there. He didn't know how to fight it with anything but his words, and his words never seemed quite good enough.

Thorin moved in step with Bilbo, glancing down at Bilbo's face in puzzlement even as they moved further into the shadowed depths of the hall. "I recall no such judgment, Master Burglar."

Bilbo hesitated only a second. "That the Lake-men should celebrate surviving the dragon. They have nothing left, Thorin. You of all know what it is to face such a plight."

Thorin's face darkened immediately. And though Bilbo braced himself for Thorin's anger to whiplash back to him, he was pleased to see the fury seemed less mad and more wounded.

It worried Bilbo greatly that he was beginning to read the shades of Thorin's anger quite well. Learning the shades of Thorin's disdain along the journey had been quite enough, in his opinion.

"Perhaps," Thorin allowed after a moment, voice tight. "Yet it is no different than they once proclaimed to us."

Bilbo started in surprise, and didn't quite know what to say to that.

Thorin didn't require any word from Bilbo. "It was days after Smaug took hold of Erebor," he said quietly. "Days, and a slow crawl to Lake-town's gates as our homeless and wounded sought shelter from any free corner." He took a slow, deep breath. "My father and I met with the Master, a serpent of a Man with no..."

Thorin halted, and Bilbo looked up to catch something flicker across his eyes. "Honor," Thorin said, voice growing rougher. "Thrór remained with our people. He was not... He was unwell." Another pause. Thorin looked down to Bilbo, and gathered himself together, settling into sure confidence once more.

"At first he would not see us at all, but a haggard company of Dwarves on his doorstep was not conducive to business. When he did allow us audience, he refused aid flatly. There was no space, he said. There were no spare supplies, though Lake-town was untouched by Smaug's destruction.

"And yet, there was space enough to house many Dale-men," he said, voice bitter. "Ever have my people been left to fend for themselves as Men and Elves stand together. Still we endure regardless of it."

Bilbo let that sink into his mind, settling the pieces of information into the puzzle of everything he knew of Thorin and the others. It made a terrible sort of sense, why Thorin was so determinedly against anyone who didn't happen to be a Dwarf.

"And Thranduil turned his warriors away," Bilbo recalled.

Thorin's smile was cold. "That…" he paused again, looking to Bilbo, before going on, "No, the Elf-king gave no aid. Not warriors when the mountain was taken, nor healers after. Neither safe haven nor supplies. They are his words, Burglar." He said softly, more to himself than his audience, "Those who have lived through dragon fire should rejoice, for they have much to be grateful for."

Bilbo's blood went cold, though Thorin's voice was painfully introspective instead of the cruel satisfaction of earlier. Had Thranduil truly said as much? It was hard to believe, but Bilbo recalled Thranduil's inhospitable actions when the Dwarves had been at his mercy in Mirkwood. Thranduil had been far from kind then too.

And yet, even so. "Is it necessary to visit such…" Bilbo searched around for anything remotely diplomatic, "…hard actions on others because they'd done so to you? It may seem like justice, Thorin, but think what good it would have done your people had the Master or Elvenking been kinder. Think what good _you_ could do. The people of Lake-town helped us get here, and they have suffered for it. They are not even the same Men who lived when Smaug first came!"

Thorin did not speak for a long minute, frowning. But he shook his head slowly, and Bilbo saw his Thorin fading before his eyes as the now familiar light of madness grew brighter in his eyes. "You do not understand," he said with such certainty Bilbo could have hit him, were he not a little afraid to do so. "You do not see all the concerns at hand."

"Then explain them to me," Bilbo suggested, politeness creeping over his voice, as if he were faced off with one of his more straight-laced relatives who was arguing a point of Bilbo's propriety than a dear friend. Someone more than a friend, if he were to admit it, which he wasn't. Not yet. Not now.

Thorin shook his head. "Enough, Bilbo. We must rest. There is much to do tomorrow." Thorin turned away, stalking back along the corridor to the lit doors of the treasury. Bilbo watched him go, his own certainties growing in his mind.

This couldn't go on. Thorin needed better help than Bilbo could give. If only Gandalf were with them, things might be different, Bilbo thought vaguely. Might be better.

But he wasn't, and they weren't, and it was left to Bilbo to sort out. There was little left he could think to do, too. Well, but one last resort, though Thorin would never forgive him for it. Bilbo knew it in his bones, in his heart. He pressed a hand to his coat, feeling the weight of the stone there.

There was one last resort, and Bilbo was out of time for finding any others.


End file.
